Pretty Young Thing
by NichtBenz
Summary: Julia is sure that Liz hired Vicky for no other reason than to torture her, and sadly it's working.
1. Chapter 1

It was a comfortable enough arrangement, with just enough affection to make it work: an evening of drinking, talking, and macramé, briefly interrupted by a quick romp and a smoke, before continuing with drinking, talking, and macramé.

Except tonight unlike every other night, it wasn't actually comfortable. This had more than a little to do with the new pretty young governess Liz had hired. Julia was sure Liz had done it just to spite her because of her role in the exit of the last one. Granted, Julia didn't _have _to push the old lizard woman into a near complete mental breakdown by simply musing on the possibility that her overly-maternal attachment to David was born from her own lack of children, which may or may not be influenced by her haggard appearance and fear of men that may or may not have been caused by her father; but then Ol' Lizard face didn't have to pour out Julia's scotch either.

So now Liz had hired a lovely young wisp of a girl who was everything that Julia wasn't and Liz knew perfectly well what a torture this was. To take all that Julia had said to her in the confidence (born of the study in a stupid post-coital haze about Julia's self-loathing and fear of aging, and to use it against her like this. Part of Julia wanted to believe she was just being overly sensitive and Liz wouldn't do that, but Julia also knew that she was desperate and lonely (as much as she was loathe to admit it) and Elizabeth Collins Stoddard had a compulsive need to control all situations (all because of some delusional belief in a curse. The only curse upon this house in Julia's mind was the collection of lunatics living in it, of course Julia had been living there for the last three years as well and was hardly one to judge.)

So now all Julia could do to muddle through the situation was play nice with Elizabeth while she prattled on about manners and qualifications, and try to drink the image of the pretty new face she saw over the bannister away. Neither of these options was working well for Julia, and made all the worse because in that horrible, gut twisting, very human way, Julia was afraid of losing Liz. She was afraid of losing these talks (as candid and catty as they tended to be) she was afraid of being nothing more than "the help" (even if she was very expensive and well educated help) and she was afraid of being forgotten or abandoned by the only person in years to make her feel desirable, to make her feel wanted, even needed.

Julia despised the fact that what had started as casual sex to fill the hours and satisfy basic animal needs had instead become more to her. Julia hated that as much as she liked to pretend that the bare leg next to her, pushed against the couch and holding a macramé project aloft was just a leg like any other leg attached to an ankle on one end and a hip on the other, it wasn't. It was a soft, pale, and warm, and oh so strong when wrapped around Julia's waist or shoulders, and attached to a quick witted and gorgeous woman who made sounds like a well-bred cat when she came. Julia hated that verbal sparring matches to prove who was really the most intelligent in the house had instead become one of her favorite hobbies like a good game of chess. Most of all, Julia hated that she might lose all of it to some empty-headed sycophant of an overgrown child.

She _should_ take the opportunity to come clean to Liz, use the intentional hurt as an excuse to come clean and admit her feelings of…something to her, cementing her place in Liz's heart and life as

more than an employee and a good fuck, and together they could figure out what exactly "something" was. At the very least she should smile and nod in polite agreement. Certainly she should not do what came naturally and pick at one of weak pressure points that could make even Liz loose her omnipresent composure.

Barring that she _should_ at least trail her hand up Liz's calf, venturing slowly higher before getting down on her own knees and reminding Liz just how useful she could be outside of her professional capacity. She should have Elizabeth sobbing out her name in ecstasy until Willie finally rang the dinner bell, so that Elizabeth would think of no one except Julia. She certainly wouldn't be thinking of some virginal little idiot who couldn't have had the slightest idea what to do to please her.

Doctor Julia Hoffman _should_ do a lot of things…

"So how long do you think before she's fucking Carolyn?"

…but she didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Liz wanted Victoria's first dinner in the house to be as close to normal and comfortable as Collinwood had to offer. It wouldn't do to scare her away on her first evening here. As usual though, no one else in the house seemed terribly on board with the idea.

Roger sat down at the table and proceeded to give Victoria the most lecherous look Liz had ever seen him give, which was quite the accomplishment. Indeed the leering didn't let up for the entire meal.

Carolyn has apparently taken an extra care to be as obstinate as a teenager could possibly be.

They had settled in over yet another charred brick of pot roast courtesy of drunken Willie, and David…poor David.

David was David, bless his heart, and at least he and Vicky seemed to like each other, which was ultimately the most important thing. Although Liz would have been a little happier had Vicky not already taken to encouraging David in undoing all of Julia's hard work with him.

Julia.

After the way she had behaved earlier in the evening and the way she was presenting herself at dinner, Liz almost wanted to turn to David and say that she had personally spoken with his dead mother that morning just to spite Julia.

But she didn't though. Ever the only calm and collected person in the house, she bit her tongue and rolled her eyes.

She knew it was best for David, and using him to get at her…Julia was the sort of juvenile thing her dead-weight brother would do, and besides, somebody needed to look out for the boy. And annoyingly enough, she didn't really want to undo the arguable progress Julia had made with the boy. It was subtle and slow-going, but it was noticeable if you knew what one knew what they were looking for. For instance, they had managed to go seven months without a single patricidal incident.

Even if the progress weren't there, Julia was still her friend; her friend who was clever and funny, observant and insightful, and even (under layers of a drunken cynicism) caring. Julia was also a spectacular bedmate who after a few quick barbs could fuck Elizabeth into the ground, which could very often be exactly what was called for to alleviate the worries of a long day plagued by Collins luck.

So it was very much a shame that Julia had decided to behave so childishly about the new governess, even if, loathe as she would be to admit it, Elizabeth had hired the pretty young girl as a bit of a barb to her vanity obsessed housemate. But to be fair: the girl was highly qualified otherwise.


	3. Chapter 3

_So I'm going to be one of those terrible "Woe is me, I don't like my chapter but I'm posting it anyways. Do you still love me?" authors. But really, I've rewritten this chapter from scratch half a dozen times now, and think it's just time to move on with the story. Bare with me._

She was trying her best to behave, she really was. She was being more gentle than she ever would have thought herself possible of. Granted, it still wasn't really that gentle.

She had sat as close as she could to the girl at dinner, trying to show just how friendly she could be. But the instant he saw the girl's perfect hair and big blue doe eyes, she was taken right back to her argument with Liz, and this time, she couldn't help but want to see what the girl would do if she was to drag the pretty young thing into it.

"I'm the doctor, you're the nanny, and she's the bitch."

Not exactly her cleverest or most biting barb, but considering just how much she had downed in the last hour, she was willing to give herself a break.

The girl however, was not. She wouldn't budge; wouldn't respond to any of Julia's series of gentle probes. She didn't even flinch as Julia leant over her, quite purposefully pressing her way into the girl's personal space. She showed no hint of shock or offence at any of the number of "unladylike" things Julia said an did, any one of which should set a proper young lady reeling. She just looked on, with eyes like iced over windows with the curtains drawn.

The girl was built of secrets, and Julia wanted them. So much so that as the table sat in awkward silence, staring at their plates and occasionally each other, Julia almost considered letting their one sided "rivalry" slide.

Almost.

It wasn't until that night, lying awake in an empty bed, miserable and far too sober for her own liking that Julia began to give young Victoria Winters any real thought. Progress was slow going though, as every thought of understanding or sympathy was very quickly beaten down by the vicious stirrings of jealousy.

Liz was hers. Collinwood was hers. The world did not want a highly skilled woman psychiatrist, who could and would put any man to shame, and studied phlebotomy to boot. So she ended up where everyone that the good people of Maine went, Collinwood. No matter that she wasn't a Collins, Collinwood was where she belonged.

She felt necessary, and useful when she worked with David, but there were only so many hours of therapy a nine-year-old could handle during a day. Otherwise, Julia was old and useless, just another resident floating around waiting for time to finally kill them. Unless she was with Liz, and Julia would be damned if she would let some other sad little cast off take that away from her.

That was just the thing though, wasn't it? The girl was a cast-off too, whether or not she looked it upon first glance. Why she was though, was surely another one of the many secrets hiding behind the drapes in the girl's window-like eyes. No matter how viciously jealous Julia was, she was still a doctor, and was driven by a professional curiosity (and an ever so secret sympathy) and found herself compelled to make the girl feel at home, and open those drapes!

But first, she needed a drink. Luckily she happened to know just where to find a nice bottle of scotch. Quick as she could, she threw on her silk dressing gown (the Asian florals made her feel worldly) and hurried out the door.

How perfect then, that at her most open-hearted, there was Vicky at the end of the hall. She was not the young woman from dinner though. She was pale and waxy, her body stiff and eyes large as saucers. She was vulnerable, and what better time to pick someone apart?

No sooner had she gotten just close enough to see into the girl's eyes, than Vicky jumped, and Julia could just make out the drapes snapping shut.

Already off-put, the resulting conversation, as well intentioned as Julia may be about it, was awkward and stumbling, and going nowhere very quickly. But Julia certainly had to try.

She reached out to touch the girl's cheek, trying desperately to show her sincerity and to make any sort of connection with the girl.

"I have trouble trusting doctors."

Well aware that if she pushed harder, she would only push the girl further away, a disappointed Julia relented. She began the retreat back to her room, but only found each step making her colder and lonelier than before.

Maybe Liz would be asleep, and Julia could just slip in beside her – enjoying her warmth without having to apologize.


End file.
